by upright | Apr 11, 2017 | Ulysses |
IN THE HEART OF THE HIBERNIAN METROPOLIS Before Nelson’s pillar trams slowed, shunted, changed trolley, started for Blackrock, Kingstown and Dalkey, Clonskea, Rathgar and Terenure, Palmerston Park and upper Rathmines, Sandymount Green, Rathmines, Ringsend and...
by upright | Mar 16, 2017 | Ulysses |
Martin Cunningham emerged from a sidepath, talking gravely. Solicitor, I think. I know his face. Menton, John Henry, solicitor, commissioner for oaths and affidavits. Dignam used to be in his office. Mat Dillon’s long ago. Jolly Mat. Convivial evenings. Cold...
by upright | Mar 8, 2017 | Ulysses |
He looked down intently into a stone crypt. Some animal. Wait. There he goes. An obese grey rat toddled along the side of the crypt, moving the pebbles. An old stager: greatgrandfather: he knows the ropes. The grey alive crushed itself in under the plinth, wriggled...
by upright | Feb 22, 2017 | Ulysses |
Mr Bloom walked unheeded along his grove by saddened angels, crosses, broken pillars, family vaults, stone hopes praying with upcast eyes, old Ireland’s hearts and hands. More sensible to spend the money on some charity for the living. Pray for the repose of the...
by upright | Feb 15, 2017 | Ulysses |
—And tell us, Hynes said, do you know that fellow in the, fellow was over there in the… He looked around. —Macintosh. Yes, I saw him, Mr Bloom said. Where is he now? —M’Intosh, Hynes said scribbling. I don’t know who he is. Is that his name? He moved...
by upright | Feb 4, 2017 | Ulysses |
We are praying now for the repose of his soul. Hoping you’re well and not in hell. Nice change of air. Out of the fryingpan of life into the fire of purgatory. Does he ever think of the hole waiting for himself? They say you do when you shiver in the sun....
